A Partner, A Friend, An Anchor
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: post episode for All Things. So what REALLY happened there? My take on everything that led to that one faithful night, and the inevitable aftermath. Please R&R!
1. Part I No Going Back

A/N: I'm not sure when I wrote this fic, but I only got to translate/edit it now. I'm on a serious X Files kick after seeing the film earlier this week so expect more about it from me. This is a post episode fic, for the infamous _All Things_, and it starts right where the episode has left off. Possible spoilers: everything until _All Things_. This fic turned out longer than I expected it to, so I'll post it in 3 parts. Reviews and feedback are love. Happy reading!

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A Partner, a Friend, an Anchor

**Part I: No Going Back**

Mulder's voice trailed off when it had suddenly dawned on him that Scully was no longer listening. He caught his breath and then looked down at her. She was fast asleep, her head touching his shoulder, a strand of auburn hair falling softly against her closed eyes. Gently, he caressed her hair away from her eyes, and then sat back and just looked at her for a moment. It was then when he had suddenly realized how beautiful she was… and how tiny… so tiny she would probably disappear in his arms if he hugged her. He smiled at the thought, but this smile quickly faded as he forced his frenzied thoughts elsewhere.

Where did _that_ come from?

He forbade himself to think about her like that. There was something extremely wrong about it. It was Scully, his partner, his best friend. His only friend. She knew everything about him. Only now it dawned on him that maybe she didn't know everything; maybe there were things he still didn't know about himself.

Slowly, so that his movements wouldn't wake her, he pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her, tucking it around her shoulders protectively. He stood up, carefully, and took the nearly-empty tea mugs to the kitchen.

It was when he put the mugs in the sink when he realized that his hands were shaking. He felt so ridiculous. What the hell was his problem? It was Scully; it was only Scully. It wouldn't be the first night she'd spend at his place. She did that quite a lot recently, ever since they had made pizza and movie nights their habit over the weekends. She never made it to the end of the film; he always found himself carrying her to his bed. He took the sofa. He always preferred it to his bed, the one that replaced that strange and troublesome water bed that showed up in his bedroom literally out of nowhere.

He smirked to himself when he remembered the first time he asked her over, two weeks after New Year, after that kiss, seconds after midnight. It wasn't a real kiss, more like a friendly peck of his lips against hers. And yet even that kiss had left him yearning for more, with this silly curiousity to check their limits. So one evening, feeling more confident than normally, he decided to give it a shot.

"Wanna come over this weekend? We can rent a movie, call in some pizza. If this weekend gets as pathetic as the previous one, I swear my landlord will find me on the floor of my bathroom with my wrists slit."

She was working on her computer at the far end of the room, but she raised her eyes from the screen at his suggestion. Her eyes were tired behind her glasses, one eyebrow raised in silent question. It wasn't a typical Mulder-ish offer, but she had to admit he had a point. Weekends got so long when they didn't spend them on the road, chasing this bizarity or another. She nodded. "Sure, one condition though."

"Which is?"

"I get to pick the movie."

It was more of a statement than a question. He hesitated. "It's not that I don't trust your taste, Scully, I'd just hate to get stuck with a cheesy chic flick. Now _that_ will be worse than spending the weekend alone," he said, ducking against the pencil she sent flying across the room in his direction.

That weekend she showed up in his apartment with copies of _The Shinning_ and _The Exorsist_, and a small triumphant grin curled on her lips as she shoved them against his chest. "Is that manly enough, Mulder?"

He struggled to keep a straight face, although he was actually quite impressed. "It'll do. I guess I'm just relieved you didn't choose _Titanic_… or _Gone with the Wind_," he replied, giving her an appalled look.

"Maybe I should have, just to see the look on your face."

Upon his return to the living room, he lingered on the threshold. She seemed peaceful in her sleep; her breathing was soft and even. He took this chance to silently observe her. It was one of many bad habbits he'd adjusted to himself after years of working side by side with her. He had become an expert in watching her while she wasn't looking; when she was concentrated in typing their reports for Skinner, when she gave him The Look for coming up with yet another implausible theory, when she mixed her salad during lunch break, or cradled the phone between ear and shoulder while her perfectly-manicured fingers were drumming on the desk…

He wished it was the only distraction, though. If it was just that, he could still get _some_ work done. He could smell her perfume whenever she leaned over him to read something over his shoulder, to take something from his desk, when she walked into the office in the morning, wearing a dark suit that fit her perfectly, and he found himself staring at her for longer than was appropriate, unable to take his eyes off her, like a stupid schoolboy with a crush on the prettiest girl in class.

At first, when she was assigned as his partner, he convinced himself that the only reason for her being there was to spy on him, to ruin years of his hard work. She looked too young, and far too fragile, to be a serious agent, but then reality kicked in, bringing him to his senses, and for the first time in his life he had learned that looks could deceive. There was nothing fragile about Dana Scully. She was the bravest woman, if not the bravest person, he had ever known. She was tough and opinionated, and even if he didn't let it show, he had always appreciated the way she was persistant when it came to things she really wanted or believed in. As frustrating as it had been at times, her strict, logical, sceintific approach had saved him a thousand times over. And he found it ironic that _she_ ended up being the one saving him, after his constant fear about having to function as the rescurer of his future female partner.

There was no doubt in his heart that she could look after herself. Well, in most of the times, at least. And then again, ever since her abduction – especially since he was still blaming himself for it – he had always felt this involuntary need to protect her. In many ways, she had been everything that Samantha had never been, had never had the chance to be. They were almost the same age, Scully and his sister, and sometimes he had to stop and remind himself that she wasn't Samantha, that Samantha was never coming back.

Sometimes he found it ridiculous, this need to protect her, which by now became a sort of an instinct. In an elevator with other agents he found himself holding back an urge to kick the other men's asses for looking at her the way they did. There was no denying it. She was a beautiful woman and they seemed to know it damn well. The trouble was… that so did he. He knew they were undressing her with their eyes whenever they stared at her like that. God knew, if it was someone else, he might have done, too. But it wasn't someone else. It was _her_. She never seemed to give a damn; whether she was aware of their shameless stares or not, he could never quite tell.

He couldn't deny. At first he was dazzled by her auburn hair, her fierce blue eyes, those tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks, the ones her makeup could never conceal properly, her full lips… She wasn't even his type. He remembered thinking that the night after they first met in his office, when it had dawned on him he couldn't get her image out of his mind. He preferred brunettes, as taller as he was. But there was something in her height… or the lack of it… that enchanted him entirely. Sometimes he found it incredible, the amount of courage such a tiny body could contain. But it could. He often found himself at awe against it.

For years he had told himself she probably wasn't interested, that it would ruin everything, that he didn't really want her, that it would never work and that he was an idiot to expect it to. The attraction had always been there. But she was his partner, his confidante, his best friend. For seven years he struggled to keep her out of his heart knowing the colosal mess it would create. Seven years, and he managed to keep this appropriate, professional distance between them, for the sake of both of them, and he was fine with it, really.

Until the time she was struggling her cancer and he felt something within him was dying along with her. Only when he had seen her in her hospital bed, thin and pale, fighting for her life, he had suddenly realized that his job, his quests, even his desperate search for the truth, had all been lame excuses for his existence. He was nothing without her. She had a hold on his heart, on his soul, whether she knew it or not, and once the thought hit him, it was impossible to shake it away. He just loved her. He couldn't quite remember when was that time when he looked at her and saw a different thing, a woman that had become so much more than a simple work colleague. Sometimes it felt as if he had loved her all his life.

Of course, he could never tell her that. Not to Dana Scully. Not if he didn't want her to run away screaming. Unfortunately, the things he most loved about her, her determination, her constant demand for proof and fact, her incredible professionalism, were just the things that stopped him from confessing his feelings for her. She would probably laugh at him anyway. Besides, why would she want him?

Outside, it started raining. He could hear it drop against the windows. It sounded like a serious storm. A lightning flashed against the wall every few seconds, followed by a loud thunder. For a moment he feared the noise would wake her, but she didn't flinch. He wondered what he should do. He didn't want to leave here there on the sofa, knowing she'd hurt her neck if she slept like that the entire night. And then again… she seemed too peaceful for him to move her to the bedroom now. He decided to just let her sleep. She seemed as if she needed it. It looked like she had undergone some tough days while he'd been away.

He sat back down next to her and tucked the afghan tighter around her. She stirred, and then slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. "Mulder?" she murmured sleepily, "What's wrong?"

"Shhh…" he replied. His face was inches away from hers. "Go back to sleep." He couldn't look away from her. But he had to. He needed to force himself away, before it was too late.

"I fell asleep?" she asked, uncomprehending.

He nodded in reply without taking his eyes off her, moving slightly closer. Every bit of him screamed at him to go back to his senses. He shouldn't do that. It would only scare her off. Her gaze locked with his; something in her eyes implied that she knew what he was thinking, that she was thinking the same thing.

Before he could think better of it, he leaned closer and let his lips graze hers. He pulled away seconds afterwards and looked up at her hesitantly, trying to read through her. The room was silent, except for the constant gurgle from his aquarium in the corner of the room. But even then, it was too quiet; she hasn't said anything, just kept looking at him, as if she had been waiting for him to apologize, or explain…

And then he realized what a jerk he had been. "Scully," he started then, feeling like kicking himself. The truth was that he wanted to explain; only he wasn't sure what to say. He was the one starting it, but he was just as surprised as she must have been. What the hell happened to him? He worked so hard to push it all away and now…

"Mulder, we _don't_ want to do this," she cut him off the moment he started speaking. She was breathless, and there was a clear edge to her voice. Her eyes reflected true embarassment; her cheeks were flushed.

He nodded, his mind still somewhat in a daze. "You're right."

"It's late, we're both tired, we're not thinking straight," she added, ever the reasonable one. Slight panic sneaked into her voice. She tried to conceal it with indifference so he knew he wasn't supposed to detect it.

"Yeah, you're right," he said again, unsure whether it was her he wanted to convince, or himself.

Another lightning flashed outside. The storm grew stronger. She looked up at him, dazed and disoriented. The room swam in front of her. What could she do? She opened her eyes and there he was, gazing at her with the pure hazel of his eyes. She let him kiss her on New Year simply because it was part of the tradition, the beginning of a new millennium, because she had longed for him to kiss her for so long that when opportunity presented itself to her, she took it, but tonight… in nights like this one, when she felt exceptionally vulnerable, she let her feelings surface, sneak away from the dark corner into which she had pushed them. It was dangerous, she knew, and in most cases she managed to get them under her control, to conceal them.

No one but her knew how far she was willing to go for him, in spite of his crazy theories, his obsessions for the supernatural, for seeing things that weren't trully there, for this natural talent he had to disobey protocols whenever an opportunity occurred to him… He was her partner. And she had told herself a long time ago, when they were first teamed together, that a romantic relationship with a work colleague, especially as close as she and Mulder had turned out to be, would mean nothing but trouble. And since as opposed to him she preferred to avoid trouble if it was up to her, she pushed out of her mind any notion of emotion she had – and she surely had – for Fox Mulder.

And now it felt as if all the walls she was carefully building around her hidden emotions were slowly breaking apart. They most certainly couldn't do this. Even though it was clear to her that Mulder liked her as a partner, he had never given her reasons to suspect he wanted them to be more than that. On the contrary, it was more likely that he didn't, and that her feelings would only scare him off. That kiss was the result of a seriously exhausting day, nothing more.

Mulder couldn't bring himself to look away from her, all the while trying to decipher her gaze. She seemed terrified, and embarrassed, as if she was having some sort of an inner battle with herself. Strange. He always seemed able to know what was on her mind, but not at the moment. He wondered what she would do, what he wanted her to do, and realized he didn't know. He could, of course, pat on her shoulder and dismiss the whole awkward situation; she'd go home and by the next morning it would be as if nothing had ever happened.

Not a chance.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. He heard her gasp, a reaction to his abrupt movement, he assumed, but he didn't stop to apologize. A part of him was still waiting for her to pull away and slap him, but she didn't. She kissed him back, as fiercely and as passionately as he did. Her arms snaked around his neck. He lowered her to the sofa without pulling away from her, letting his arms drift to her sides and caress her wherever they could reach, along her cheeks, the skin of her stomach underneath her sweater, entangling in her hair. They both seemed to realize where it was headed; words were unnecessary. They knew each other far too well.

Their kisses deepened, and their lips only parted now to regain lost exygen. Mulder took one such opportunity to take her arm and lift her off the sofa. He said nothing as he carried her to the dark bedroom. The rain hit forcefully against the windows. They were standing breathless in the middle of the room, facing each other out of silently, hesitantly, as if wondering how they had gotten there.

Scully shook her head, forcing herself to get back to her senses. She was wide awake now. "Mul – "

"Shhh…" he cut her off. He knew what she was about to say. He could read the doubt in her eyes. It shouldn't happen. Not to them. They were better than that, stronger. They were partners. They couldn't ruin it all now, not for the sake of one night. She seemed as confused as he felt. His head was reeling, filled with questions, and looking at her, he knew she was feeling the same. She opened her mouth again, to protest it seemed, and he quickly placed a finger against her lips. "Don't say it… I know…" he murmured, leaning to kiss her neck.

He slipped her blazer off her shoulders; it fell to the floor with a soft thud. He let his arms wander beneath her thin sweater. She knew it was up to her to bring them back to their senses, to push him off, to tell him to stop, she was the logical one after all; but she didn't want that. She closed her eyes, feeling nothing but the touch of his warm hands against her skin, knowing it was wrong and still yearning for more.

"Are you sure?" his voice was a broken whisper as he uttered the question, as if reading her mind. She looked up at him. He stared back, his gaze a mixture of awe, desire and fear. He looked at her questionably, his hazel eyes mesmerizing. She had never seen them so dark before. "Dana?"

"Yeah," she replied, trying to stop her voice from trembling. "Yeah, I'm sure."

His hands were shaking when he laid them against her face, bringing her closer to him again. Their kisses were soft yet fervent. There was no more hesitation. Mulder removed his tee shirt and tossed it across the room. She almost looked away by instinct, to give him privacy, when she suddenly remembered it was different now. She stepped closer to him and ran a finger across his chest. She smiled when she felt him shiver beneath her touch. Again she had to ask herself what the hell they were doing.

He kissed her and at the same time tried to take off her sweater. It was still raining out, but she couldn't care less at the moment. It was hot and stifling in the room, and it was getting hotter by the second. Her skirt fell to the floor; his jeans did too. He was struggling with her stockings for a moment, which earned him a snort and a giggle on her side. He flashed a crooked smile at her that told her what she had already suspected, that it'd been a while for him as well.

She seemed distracted. Thinking she was having second thoughts, he kissed her quickly, dismissing them. Then he slowly pulled away and just looked at her in the pale moonlight. She was beautiful, just as he knew she would be. He wanted to tell her that, but he feared it would sound ridiculous, saying it aloud. Instead he laced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand before kissing her again. A thunder boomed outside. One thing was clear to him as he lowered her to his bed. From there on, there was no going back.


	2. Part II The Aftermath

**A/N: hey everyone! thank you SO much for your lovely comments, keep them coming! here's the 2nd part, stay tuned for the last one, i'm working on it as you read...**

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Part II: The Aftermath

As consciousness thrust itself upon Scully, so did a stream of pressing questions. She had no idea what time it was or where she was. She recognized the bed as Mulder's, which wasn't unusual. What _was_ unusual was the fact his arm was draped around her naked waist. And that realization brought about a bigger, scarier and more serious realization of what happened the previous night.

Crap.

A glance at the digital clock on the bedside read 10 minutes before 5AM. By then she had a pretty clear picture in her mind's eye of the previous night, and she groaned inwardly. She needed to get out of there and fast. She didn't think she'd be able to handle things when Mulder woke up, or if they'd have to discuss things on the way to work.

She turned over her shoulder and watched him for a moment, silently observing his sleeping face. She didn't dare touching his arm, the one that was wrapped around her, holding her in place. She looked closely at his fingers. They were long and lean, a pianist's hands. Somehow she resisted the urge to lace her fingers in his, to raise his hand to her lips and kiss his fingers one by one. She didn't know how much time she had before he woke up.

Slowly, gently, she untangled herself from his embrace. He didn't even stir. He murmured something as he rolled on his side with his back to her, sound asleep. Jetlag seemed to conquer him at last, and she was grateful for it. She wasn't ready to handle it all so early. There would be enough time to discuss it later in the office.

She got dressed in the bathroom and hastily finger-combed her hair. On her way out she picked her jacket up from the end of the bed. Then she looked up at Mulder, still asleep, snuggled into the covers, oblivious. A small smile curled on her lips. Yeah, she admitted to herself. More than anything, she wanted to stay there with him, surrounded by the warmth of the covers, of his body, with his arms wrapped tightly around her as if he would never let her go. But then again, she knew she was doing the right thing.

She glanced around her, searching for a writing pad, anything where she could leave him a short message to explain where she had gone, but she could hardly see anything in that darkness before dawn. She gave up on her search, knowing he'd understand with or without a note, and then quietly left the apartment.

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His alarm went off at 7AM as usual. Groaning, he reached over to hit it. The sound stopped at once. Mulder groaned again. He was exhausted. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. A grin curled on his lips as that thought hit him, and he rolled on his side to wake Scully.

Who wasn't there.

"Scully?" he asked, looking towards the bathroom. "Are you there?" When there was no reply he sat up and stretched, and then put on his pajama pants and got up. "Dana?" he asked again, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. He peeked in. The room was empty. He looked around his bedroom. His clothes were scattered around the room; he could see none of hers.

Fine, so she needed time, he told himself as he took a long shower and got ready for work. But it felt so good drifting off to sleep with her in his arms, knowing she'd be there when he woke up.

He got to work earlier than he expected. The door was locked. She wasn't there yet. And now a pressing thought kicked in, and he wondered if she'd even show up to work at all. He wanted to call her, but he didn't want to rush things. If she wanted to take things slow, he was willing to give her what she wanted. He still wasn't sure if the other night was a wise step to take, but at the time it felt as if it was. It _was_ the right thing to do. And she seemed to think so as well, or they wouldn't have gotten there.

He got himself coffee and turned on his computer. Might as well do some work, if he got there so early. He hoped Scully wouldn't forget their 9:00 meeting with Kersh.

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Scully observed her reflection closely. She looked the same as every morning, and yet she felt so different. A glance at her watch told her she would be late unless she hurried. She shook her head, sending the distracting thoughts away. She didn't want to think, especially not about the previous night. More than that, she _forbade_ herself from thinking about the previous night. She was still scolding herself for letting it happen. It was one of the stupidest things she had ever done, to say the least. How could she let her weakness overpower her like that? And for what? And what the hell she was going to do now?

And yet… a major part of her did not regret it at all. No one had ever made her feel quite the same way, no one had ever touched her like that, or whispered soft words in her ear; no one, and certainly not Mulder.

She slipped into her coat and then left her apartment. It was still cold out, although the storm seemed to subside by then. She tried to erase any trace of him from her mind while starting the car, tried to focus on her driving, but all she could think of was the way his strong arms were wrapped around her, the way his hands and eyes never left her own, the way his lips uttered her name over and over, the taste of his kisses, thrilling, new, and yet so familiar at the same time.

She dreaded getting to work. She wondered how she would ever be able to look at him again. She didn't want to discuss what happened, nor think about it, but she seemed unable to. She stepped out of the elevator reluctantly when it reached the basement floor. He was already there. She guessed as much, as the scent of his aftershave still lingered faintly in the hall. She walked slowly, wishing to stall her arrival to the office for as long as she possibly could, but the hall wasn't long enough. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed in the deserted hall. Her heart threatened to burst in her chest; she could almost hear its thud as she laid a shaking hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

Mulder was already there, as she guessed. He sat with his back to the door, staring at his _I Want to Believe_ poster on the wall. She was undecided as to whether he didn't hear her as she came in, or pretended not to. She stood at the doorway for a moment, just watching him, and then she realized how ridiculous the whole situation was. She cleared her throat. "Hey," she said softly so her voice wouldn't scare him.

At the sound of her voice he turned abruptly, and his gaze locked with hers. Her cheeks burned with sudden blush; she was the first to look away. She turned away from him, shutting the door.

"Good morning, Dana," he replied, almost shyly.

There was this tense, awkward silence. They kept a safe distance between them, hardly looking at one another, as if uncertain of what they should do next. Mulder remained seated; Scully everything but leaned against the closed door. It was up to one of them to make the first step.

"So, I had this really crazy dream last night," Mulder said quietly, forcing himself to look straight at her.

The look he had just given her, as if he could see right through her, would have disturb her and embarrass her under any other circumstance, but not after the previous night. She laughed softly. "I'm sorry I disappeared, Mulder."

More silence. She turned away from his observing gaze and hung her coat on the back of the door.

"Why did you?"

She turned to face him again. She didn't like what she had found in his eyes. She sighed. "Mulder, look, I didn't mean to hurt you or anything, it's just… I couldn't show up to work wearing yesterday's clothes, so I…" He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. The truth was that she didn't even convince herself. "I wanted to think about it, okay?" she added then. She wasn't even sure he heard her until he murmured his reply.

"We could think about it together."

"If I stayed we would never have gotten to work on time," she said before she could think better of it. Then, at the sight of the little grin that curled on his lips, she realized she had said it aloud, and the color in her cheeks deepened.

"What happened to us there?" he asked, sounding more confident now.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she said eventually, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. He looked serious, as if he honestly couldn't figure last night out.

"After 7 years, why now?" he pressed.

His question remained hung between them, unanswered. She forced her eyes away from him. It was too weird. She knew he was trying to look through her, to find out how she felt about it, almost as if she was a suspect he had to question for a motive. She moved towards her own desk, hoping to avoid him that way, but he was having none of that and followed her there. She flinched away from him as he laid his arm against her shoulder. "Mulder, don't."

"Why?"

"Damnit, Mulder!" she shoved his arm off a bit more abruptly than she intended.

He stared at her, too taken aback to be offended by her movement. Was she thinking it was a mistake? He couldn't shake off this possibility. There was a slim chance for that; she would never have let it happen if she thought it was a mistake, if she wasn't sure… Anyway, he needed to tell her. Now. She needed to know how he felt; she had to know that he –

"Scully, come here," he said quietly, opening his arms a bit.

"No," she said stubbornly, not looking at him. She knew that if she would, she'd be lost in his eyes, and she couldn't do that. Not while they were at work.

"_Yes_, Scully, come here, I need to tell you something." But she didn't, and suddenly he was furious that in what was the most crucial point in their relationship, she couldn't bring herself to trust him. She'd put her life in the line for him; he had no doubt she would, but she would never let herself love him. Well he wouldn't let her have her way, not on this. If he would, he'd lose her, and he wasn't willing to risk that.

"Damnit, Scully, trust me! Come here."

After what felt like forever, she sighed and turned to face him. "What do you want?" she asked, and there was this desperation to her tone.

"I want you to be honest with yourself. And with me," he added as an afterthought. "Now come here."

She didn't want to resist him anymore. She literally walked into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and exhaled slowly, releasing the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She was a wreck. She didn't know what she was feeling, how she was supposed to feel after last night. It seemed like the right thing, at the time, and then again… in the morning it suddenly felt like a huge, unfixable mistake.

Mulder tightened his grip around her. He smiled bitterly to himself when it dawned on him she really did disappear in his arms, like he thought she would. Her head barely grazed his chin. He leaned down to place a small kiss on the top of her head. "We need to talk about it," he said, slowly, so it wouldn't scare her off. He could sense she was nervous about it. She was so tense; he had never seen her like that before.

"I know, I know, I just…" her voice trailed off; she sighed. "Mulder, what are we gonna do? If Kersh finds out, or worse, if they – "

"They won't," he cut her off. It was the one thing he wanted to be able to promise her.

"They'll use it against us, they'll turn us against one another, they'll try to shut us down, they're capable of so much more than that. We already know as much."

"Scully, stop it. They don't know. They _won't_ know. Besides, how many times they've tried to shut us down in the past?" Her only reply with a long sigh; she knew he was right. She untangled herself from his arms and sat on the edge of her desk. "Exactly. Too many times. They'll have their secrets, and we'll have ours, and that's how it's gonna be. Besides, I don't think we understand what happened there," he added quietly, walking towards her, "and if we can't figure it out, how can they?" She didn't reply. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't. Her eyes were glistening, as if with tears. "Look, I know what you're thinking. It shouldn't have happened. And maybe you're right."

"But that's not what I'm thinking," she said slowly, quietly, surprising even herself.

"It's not?" She shook her head no. "What are you thinking then?" he asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he had to.

"How long have we been working together, Mulder? 7 years now? 7 years is a long time not to discuss… our feelings for one another, and I don't mean work, you know I'll do anything – " she looked up at him and her voice trailed off when she saw the confirmation in his eyes. Of course he knew.

"And you know I will, too," he replied, taking her hand.

And she did know. She remembered how he was there for her while fighting the cancer that had left her defeated in every possible way. It was for him she had stayed strong, knowing that losing her, he'd find a way to shut himself off, maybe even kill himself. She knew he was still blaming himself for her abduction, her illness, her barrenness. It wasn't his fault, of course. It was all in the hands of forces bigger and stronger than him, than both of them. And yet she knew she could never convince him that was the case.

She looked at him again. There was something else in his eyes, something he wanted to tell her. From before, she had suddenly remembered. He seemed to be struggling to speak. "What?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand a bit to encourage him.

"I…" His voice trailed off before he managed to say anything else, but suddenly it wasn't necessary. She knew.

"Don't say it," she pleaded.

He looked confused. "Why?"

"Because I already know," she replied, smiling faintly. He didn't seem too surprised. She sighed and looked at him seriously. "Mulder, I love you too," she admitted, hardly looking at him. Her cheeks were burning. "And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of pretending that everything's okay, that nothing is going on, that nothing has been going on since the start. I'm sick of denial, of telling myself I don't love you when I do, but – "

"No buts," he cut her off, leaning towards her, his lips grazing her cheek, her jawline, eventually settling against her neck. She didn't have a way out. She was still sitting on her desk, and he was blocking her escape, leaning closer and closer to her simultaneously with the movement of his lips, almost as if he was trying to lay her back against the desk.

"Mulder, this is wrong," she murmured breathlessly, "We can't do this… not here…" She gasped as his tongue circled its way around her earlobe; his lips followed, gently sucking on it. She knew she didn't sound too convincing. Damnit, she could hardly convince herself. And it didn't seem as if he was listening. He just kept on kissing her, everywhere his lips could reach. And she didn't want him to stop. As twisted and as wrong as it was, she didn't want him to stop. She reached for his tie and grabbed it, bringing his face close to hers, as her lips found his. She could feel him smiling against her lips as he finally managed to lay her back. As the last drops of resistance melted away, she threw all caution to the wind and kissed him back.


	3. Part III An Anchor

**Part III: An Anchor**

It was as if time halted, and nothing else existed except the two of them in the deserted basement office. Their kisses were longer, more fervent, and neither seemed to want to stop it even though they were running out of oxygen. Scully reached between them and tried to undo his tie, but he was having none of it. His lips drifted to her collarbone, his tongue brushing against her necklace. She tangled her hands in his hair, closing her eyes as he settled himself against the crook of her neck.

The loud shrill of the phone tore at the silence. It was right next to Scully's ear; she started and pulled away from Mulder, who groaned in protest at her sudden movement. She gave him a look before she sat up and picked up the phone.

"Scully," she breathed into the phone, fighting to stabilize her voice as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Agent Scully?"

She tensed and shot Mulder another glare. Reality hit her full force with the icy voice of Assistant Director Kersh at the other end of the line. Mulder got up as she straightened up and sat on her desk again. He sat on the chair, keeping a safe distance, as if it was possible for the Assistant Director to see what they were up to. "Yes, Sir."

"What the hell are you doing down there?"

This was when she remembered their 9:00 meeting at the Kersh's office. She stole an anxious glance at Mulder, who seemed to remember the exact same thing. "Well Sir, I was…"

"Is agent Mulder there with you?" Kersh cut her off abruptly, impatiently.

"No, Sir, he's not," she replied quickly. She didn't mean to give the Assistant Director more reasons to go against Mulder; surely, he had enough.

"Well, whatever it is you're doing there, agent, I expect you to drop it and get here as you were required to do. I expect you to reach Mulder and I expect to see both of you no later than 15 minutes or you won't have an office to go back to, am I making myself clear?"

"Of course, Sir, I'll be right there." But she doubted he heard her; by the time she had said the last word, there was a dial tone on the other end of the line. She put the phone down slowly, and looked at Mulder. Sitting down, he was on her eye-level. "Please tell me you remembered the file we were supposed to hand in this morning."

He felt like laughing at her anxiety. There was something endearing about it. She seemed uncharacteristically disoriented and he liked it; especially he liked the fact he had something to do with it. He nodded, and went over the fetch the file from his desk. "I was just working on it before you got here."

She snatched the file from his hand and her eyes scanned it quickly before she signed her name at the bottom of the page. She hurried after him to the elevator. He slipped into his jacket as she hit the bottom of the sixth floor. Before he knew it, she was gaining closer to him. He found himself catching his breath by instinct, and felt incredibly stupid when she reached over to refasten the knot of his tie.

"It can't go on like this, Mulder," she said, almost whispered, straightening an invisible wrinkle on his jacket. Her head was reeling. His breath was hot against her neck, his eyes anything but drilling into her. She knew he was looking at her, waiting for an explanation. "I mean, last night. What was it for us? A one night stand, something for a longer term, what? We're _partners_," she said, looking up at him urgently. "Do we really want to sacrifice the last 7 years for – "

"I think you're missing an important point here," replied Mulder, taking the file from her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, making her gasp in spite of herself. She couldn't help but wonder if he did it on purpose. "I don't think we're sacrificing anything. On the contrary."

It sounded so simple. Too simple. "Mulder, you're my best friend," she said honestly. "I trust you with my life. I can tell you anything. I know you'll always be there for me, no matter what. I don't want to give it up."

"You're not," he replied. His thumb brushed against her cheek. "You're not giving anything up. I'm still your best friend. I'm not putting any pressure on you; we'll do it your way. But if you care to hear what I think… I think we should give it a chance."

There it was; that hint of skepticism he had come to know so well by now, a shadow that overpowered the blue of her eyes. He spotted it from miles. Unfortunately, this was when the elevator stopped. They moved away from one another instinctively, and he followed her down the hall. Her steps were determined, her heels clicking against the floor. He was having a hard time catching up with her, especially since his mind was completely elsewhere.

He grabbed her hand before she went into Kersh's office. She turned abruptly when she felt his fingers closing on hers. She glared at him silently, looking anxious again. The warning was clear in her eyes. He nodded and let go of her hand reluctantly. "Listen to me," he said seriously. "Let's go out for lunch later and talk about this. Let's finish off this thing with Kersh first, before they kick our asses. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

Scully nodded. For once, he was making sense. All that was left to hope was that Kersh would notice nothing.

But by lunchtime, they both lost any hope for getting out. Unfortunately Kersh was not in a forgiving mood. Well, was he ever? It almost made them miss the time in which they were under Skinner's supervision. Now Kersh had given them extra paperwork for the one they were already assigned, with a pressing deadline of 5PM that afternoon along with the threat never to be late to an appointment with him again unless they wanted to find themselves out of the Bureau.

Time crawled. They only stopped their work in order to refill their coffee supply. They hardly even spoke. There was nothing to talk about. Mulder was working on his computer, and Scully had her own pile of files on which she had to give her medical opinion.

After what felt like ages, Mulder raised his eyes from his computer screen. He had no idea what time it was, but he didn't care. He tossed the file he had just finished with unto the "done" pile and took off his glasses with a weary sigh. "I can't go on like this," he practically whined. "Let's go, let's get out of here."

Scully looked up from the other end of the office, looking as exhausted and as desperate as he felt. "Mulder, we're supposed to hand it all in by 5. Now I don't know how you're doing there but I'm not even halfway through it all, and I'm not going anywhere until I am."

He smirked. Now that was Scully he knew, ever the perfectionist, and so damn right. But there was this sharp pain at the back of his head that wasn't letting him go for over an hour now, and it was getting worse. He desperately needed some caffeine, or sugar; preferably both. "Okay, here's an idea," he said, getting up. "You'll stay here with your reports, and I'll get us some lunch. Any preferences?"

She shook her head hesitantly. "Mulder, I really don't think – "

"Scully, aren't you hungry?"

"Starving," she admitted, a grin curling on her lips in spite of herself. "But we've still got plenty of work to do."

"Well I don't care," Mulder announced, rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt. "I have a splitting headache and I'm not intending to starve to death because of Kersh's paperwork," he declared, putting his jacket back on. "So what are we having?"

She smiled. That "we" had a whole new meaning now. "Whatever, I really don't mind."

"I'll be right back then," he said, retuning her smile, before he turned to go. Only when the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, she turned her attention back to the file she had been working on, but she couldn't keep herself focused on it. It was so silly she felt like kicking herself. He left literally minutes ago and yet, she missed him. It was pathetic.

It wasn't difficult to stir her thoughts away from the work she had to do for Kersh. For now, she got away from the need to settle things right with Mulder, but knowing him, she knew he wouldn't let it go that easily. She wondered what she'd say. She let her feelings take hold on her, she actually told him she loved him… but what could she do? She was only trying to stop him from saying it to _her_, knowing she wouldn't be able to handle hearing him say that.

She had no reasonable explanation regarding the previous night. Or maybe she had? She didn't know. She had to shove him off right there and then, when she woke up on his sofa, but she didn't.

Why?

They had dozens of other similar opportunities, years before, and she was always stronger than giving in to what she really wanted. She forced herself never to think of him as a lover, repressed any illusion, any hope she had about the slightest possibility of a romantic involvement with him, knowing far well it would do no good to their partnership.

And now? She touched her cheek, where he laid his thumb only hours ago. Why was now different than all those other times in the past?

Because it _was_ different.

Because they were different people than they had been 7 years ago. Because their relationship was so intense they could practically read each other's minds. They spent far too many hours together than necessary. She knew they were a source for never-ending gossip in the Bureau due to that fact. She knew people were whispering behind their backs, stories about Mr. And Mrs. Spooky. She didn't give a damn; she knew Mulder didn't, too. It was strange how they managed to turn the awkwardness of the situation into a hilarious joke after all these years of working together.

She sighed and leaned her head against her arm. It was always there, this spark between them, this inevitable attraction. At first she was amazed by how he allowed himself to flirt with her shamelessly at any given opportunity, and always managed to get away with him somehow because she was too paralyzed to answer back. With time she learned to play his game, to reply his innuendos with witty backfires of her own whenever she felt he was slightly off his limits.

But when did she allow herself to go beyond _her_ limits?

There was no time to ponder over that, though, for a faint clinging noise from down the hall notified her that Mulder was on his way back. She sat up straight again and fetched the file she had previously put aside just when Mulder reentered the office. There was this small smile against his lips now, but he didn't seem aware of it. It made her want to smile too.

She'd have enough time to do some thinking later, when she was home. For now… she just wanted to get the day over with.

* * *

Her living room was warm and cozy now that the fire was on. Scully was curled on her sofa, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, a book in her lap. She left the office hours ago; she was never as happy to go back home as she did that afternoon. It felt as if the day lasted forever. She and Mulder managed to hand in everything on time, but they still had a lot of work at their office. It was about 7 when they called it a day eventually, leaving each in his own car, hardly saying two words for one another. They were exhausted. None of them saw the need to continue the conversation they had started hours ago while on the elevator. It waited 7 years, surely it could wait a little longer, Scully told herself while driving home.

A long bubble bath was just what she needed. She laid her head back, slowly relaxing, thinking of absolutely nothing except for the heat of the scented water. She had enough work for one day, and she refused to think of anything work-related. However, soon she realized she wasn't quite keeping her word, for Mulder was all she could think about. Those moments in their office before Kersh's call, their brief conversation in the elevator, and soon enough she'd have to give him her answer; surely he wouldn't want to leave things as they were.

Wrapping a bathrobe around her, she settled on her sofa with tea and a novel she had meant to finish for ages. She hadn't even had dinner yet, but she wasn't that hungry. As she was leafing through her book, she realized she wasn't really reading. She was too tired to concentrate, and the small letters swam in front of her eyes. She yawned. It really was a long day.

The phone rang, giving her an excuse to toss the book aside. "Hello?"

"What are you wearing?"

She smiled. So typical. "Why?"

"Curiosity."

His voice was like velvet. An involuntary shiver went through her. "I stepped out of the shower a while ago. I still have my bathrobe on."

"_Really_."

"Where are you, Mulder?" she asked, amused.

"I… was wondering if you'll want to have some pizza."

Coming from the guy who got them fried chicken for lunch, she couldn't help but giggle. "Aren't you sick with junk food yet, Mulder? Don't you think it's time you'll start having real food?"

"Maybe," he contemplated. "So, d'you want some pizza or don't you?"

"Hmm… sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Some pepper… tomatoes… mushrooms… extra cheese…"

She closed her eyes, suddenly hungry. She would sell her soul for a pizza, and he knew it damn well. "That sounds really good."

"Smells good, too."

And then when it had dawned on her. "Mulder, that's really mean of you, to call in a pizza and then call to tell me about it while you're eating it all by yourself."

"I wasn't gonna eat it all myself, I called because I wanted to share it with you."

She laughed softly and glanced at the window. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but it's raining cats and dogs out. There's no way I'm leaving my apartment now even if it's for a pizza, Mulder, sorry."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well you'd better check then; someone might have dropped a pizza by your doorstep."

"What?"

He laughed softly. "Open the door, Scully, it's freezing out here."

When everything clicked together, she jumped off the sofa and hurried to open the door. And indeed, there was Mulder, just placing his cell phone back in his pocket, balancing a big pizza box in his other hand. She could see water dripping from his coat. She gave him an astounded look. "Mulder, what the hell?"

"I was bored," he said defensively, as if that was a good enough excuse. "I thought you might want some company."

"So you brought pizza so you could bribe your way in?"

He smiled coyly, his hazel eyes sparkling. "It worked, didn't it?"

She mock groaned as she pulled him in and shut the door behind him. Silently, she took his coat and hung him at the bathroom. It was soaked.

Mulder was making himself at home without even being asked in. When she got back into the living room he was already settled comfortably in front of the fire. She smiled in spite of herself. "I don't remember asking you to sit down, Mulder. If you're half as soaked as your coat, you're going to ruin my sofa." He snorted, but didn't reply. She shrugged and went into the kitchen, thinking she'd make him some tea to get him warm. But she wasn't able to hold that thought for long. Just as she reached out to fetch the kettle, two strong arms were wrapped around her waist. She should have known.

Smiling to herself, she turned to face him. He had her trapped again, between himself and the counter. "Leave it," he softly commanded. She complied, placing the kettle back on the counter the best she could without looking away from him. She was practically holding her breath. His hands were toying with the knot at the front of her bathrobe, but he didn't try to untie it. He seemed to have other plans in mind; well she thought he did because he had that little grin that always meant he was up to something.

And indeed, a few seconds later, his hands gently slid from the knot of the bathrobe to its front. He let his fingers drift from the material to her skin, caressing her collarbone and neck. She threw her head back out of instinct, closing her eyes. When he next spoke, his lips were grazing her ear, his breath soft and warm against her neck. "So, we didn't get a chance to finish that talk we had today."

"Keep it up, and we never will," she laughed nervously, gasping when he trailed kisses to her collarbone. This was wrong. They shouldn't be doing that. But how could it be wrong when it felt so damn right?

As if he could sense her hesitations, he brought his hands to the sides of her face and drew her closer for a kiss. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, either. It was fierce, and determined; he clearly knew what he wanted. And the craziest thing was that this was what she wanted too. But she was so confused. She kissed him back out of instinct. Before she realized, they were on her sofa again, kissing fervently. Her bathrobe was someplace on the floor between the kitchen to the living room, forgotten; so were most of Mulder's clothes.

"Hold on a second, Mulder, stop," she breathed suddenly.

"What?" he asked softly, his lips inches from hers. She wanted to say something but couldn't, not when his face was so close to hers. For the millionth time that day she asked herself how the hell they got there, how was it possible that he was really – "Dana?" his voice shook her off her reverie, his thumb brushing her cheek.

"No… don't."

She felt him tense on top of her. His hand froze against her face. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding panicked. "I thought that you… we…"

She laughed softly. He could be so dense at times. "Not here," she said enigmatically. He didn't seem to get it. She smiled mysteriously and got up, gently tugging at his arm and leading the way to her bedroom.

* * *

She didn't know what time it was, but she didn't care. Outside it was still pouring with rain, but she was warm and cozy, cuddling against Mulder. By the way his chest was slowly rising and falling, she assumed he drifted to sleep too. He had one arm buried in her hair. His other arm was draped over her waist, his fingers drawing slow circles around the tattoo on her lower back.

"Are you awake?" he asked huskily.

"Yeah," she murmured, but her eyes were drifting to a close on their own accord. "Why?"

"I just… I remembered something you said this morning in the office," he said hesitantly.

Her mind was hazy. She could hardly remember her name at the moment. "What did I say?"

"That you loved me."

She hoped he didn't hear her gasp. God, she totally forgot about that part of the day. It felt as if it happened ages ago, not that morning. "Oh, that."

"Yeah, that."

"Somehow I hoped you missed it," she said, half smiling.

"Yeah, right," he smirked, and then gently nudged her side. "Well, do you? Or did you just say it to shut me up?"

He was teasing; that much was clear from his tone. And yet she hated to think he'd think that the possibility existed. She looked up at him seriously. "Mulder, do you really think I would stand 7 years of little green men, vampires, invisible men and other mutants instead of running away screaming when given the chance if I didn't love you?"

"Fair point," he replied after a moment, smiling coyly.

She leaned down and placed a soft kiss against his lips. He kissed her back, but he was obviously distracted. "What's the matter?" she murmured, slowly pulling away.

"I don't understand you. How could you stay after everything we've been through, everything you've lost…"

Melissa. Emily. Motherhood. Shadows of future and past, things she had or would never have. And yet… "I did stay though, didn't I?"

"I'm so glad you did," he said, so quietly she had to strain to hear it. It was a rare thing between them, this burst of emotions. Confessions were not something they were used to. Words weren't necessary, in their case. Besides, it was easier to keep things unsaid. Safer. "You know, there were times, especially in the beginning, when I was telling myself things could have been so much easier without you. But then at some point I sort of came to realize that it _was_ easy. And it was only easy because you _were_ there with me. You're like my anchor."

"And you're mine," she smiled, brushing her thumb over his lips. He pressed his lips to it, returning her smile. It was as if they were sharing a secret, and in some way, they were.

"Come on, let's just go to sleep," he said then, as if he could tell she was exhausted. She didn't need further encouragement. He reached over to turn the lamp off, and then pulled the covers tighter around the two of them. He fell asleep faster than she expected him to. She was so tired it was ridiculous, and yet she couldn't fall asleep. Her mind was too occupied; too much had happened in such a short time. It felt as if her life changed overnight, and in a way, it did. In one night she and Mulder turned from partners to lovers. Who would have thought?

No one, with a little luck. She hoped Kersh and the rest of them would never know about this turn in their relationship. No matter what Mulder said, she had a feeling they hadn't yet gotten a real taste of what these men in black were capable of.

And in spite of these thoughts, there was this optimism sipping through her as she closed her eyes. They would be okay. They were together – that was the only thing that mattered. They'd last as long as they had each other. And with that thought she finally let herself drift into slumber in Mulder's arms. Her partner, her friend, her anchor.


End file.
